Brainrush 05 - Everlast 02: Ephemeral
Page 1
Back Cover Text
In Amsterdam, a visionary scientist is laying the groundwork for a cybernetic life-extension project that will transfer individual consciousness to a personalized avatar. Halfway around the world, his brilliant grandson is secretly planning to use the same technology to infiltrate the world’s most secure networks. But the scientific advances necessary to perfect the brain-to-computer interface are slow in coming, too slow for the aging founder of the Everlast foundation—who may die before realizing his dream of immortality—and too slow for his ruthless grandson, who will stop at nothing to attain the recognition that is his birthright.
Caught in the middle are Jake Bronson and his seven-year-old son, Alex, whose combined mental gifts might provide the key to leapfrogging the impasse.
Jake’s family and closest friends have been taken by a mysterious organization with access to every surveillance system on the planet. In this exciting conclusion to the Everlast duology, Jake must use every cell in his failing brain to evade capture, rescue his loved ones, and stop a madman’s plans for global chaos.
Ephemeral
A Brainrush Thriller
(Book Two of the Everlast Duology)
Richard Bard
Table of Contents
Back Cover Text
Ephemeral
Dedication
PART ONE
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
PART TWO
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
Author’s Note
About the Author
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Text and cover copyright © 2014 Richard Bard
All rights reserved.
Printed in the United States of America.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Richard Bard
PO Box 107
Redondo Beach, California 90277
ISBN-13: 978-0692321379
ISBN-10: 0692321373
LCCN: 2014920811
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Dedication
For my daughter, Danielle, whose heartfelt words inspire me more than she’ll ever know.
She wrote:
I’m so proud to call you my dad. You inspire me every day to be the best I can be, and there is not a day that goes by that I don’t think about you or what you would do in a situation.
I love you!
Danielle
PART ONE
“The flame that burns twice as bright burns half as long.”
Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching
Chapter 1
Hong Kong
10:00 a.m.
JIAOLONG RIPPED OFF his headset and glared at the man displayed on the central wall screen in the control room. Lin was beside him, gripping his arm. Sister Min stood directly in front of the screen, eyes fixed on the image, fists clenched at her sides.
“Enhancing,” lead engineer Pak said, manipulating the image from his panel. Sister Zhin hovered behind Pak, hands on her hips. Everyone else in the busy room had quieted. The enhancement software washed away extraneous pixels and new ones were interpolated into place. The image clarified, Pak rotated the figure and zoomed in on the face. There was no mistake. It was Jake Bronson. At the Hong Kong International airport.
A flash of conflicting emotions arose within Jiaolong. On the one hand, he was determined to bring pain to the man who’d murdered his parents and crushed his dreams of a new world. But on the other hand, he needed to keep the man safe until his unique abilities could be used to save his grandfather.
“What’s the time stamp?” Jiaolong asked.
“Fifteen minutes ago.”
“Dispatch teams to the airport immediately.”
“Already done,” Min said, storming between the rows of consoles to join Jiaolong and Lin.
“Listen to me!” Jiaolong said. Keyboards quieted and every person in the room looked his way. “This is priority one. We need to find him fast. I want eyes from every camera in and around the airport for a radius of five miles. We found him once, we’ll do so again. Also, tap into every system at the airport. Pierce every security level. I want to know where he flew in from, when he landed, who he traveled with, what bathrooms he used—everything! The order is simple. Locate and apprehend. Now!”
The team jumped into action faster than a cleaved beehive. Keyboards sang, orders were issued, and search programs streamed thousands of images across screens. The sight was like a salve for Jiaolong’s nerves.
“How did he know to come to Hong Kong?” Lin asked.
“He’s smart, remember?” Zhin said. “When his attempt to plant a tracker in Min’s purse didn’t work, he found another way.”
“Someone must be helping him,” Min said.
“Perhaps,” Jiaolong said.
“But who?” Lin asked. “And do you think he knows about this specific location?”
Jiaolong considered it. “It doesn’t matter. Our course is set, in any case. We simply have to move up the timetable.”
“You mean... ” Lin’s voice trailed.
Zhin drew her lips into a thin line. “You’re right, of course.”
“Finally,” Min said.
“With luck, he’ll be in hand soon. So let’s arrange a little welcome for him.”
All three sisters nodded in unison.
“And set the charges,” he added. “We’ll leave after tonight’s tournament. It will be our final chance to get the information we need from TurboHacker the easy way. If it works, he’ll no longer be a threat and will suffer the same fate as the greens. Otherwise, we’ll take him with us and allow sister Min to squeeze it out of him.”
Min smiled at the prospect.<
br />
“One way or another,” he said, “TurboHacker’s secrets will be ours.”
Chapter 2
Hong Kong International Airport
JAKE WAS AMAZED at Lacey’s transformation. It wasn’t just the bun wig, glasses, and sagging synthetic skin added to her face. It was the way she held herself, with her shoulders slumped as if carrying a hidden burden. Padding under her slacks and sweater completed the image. The beautiful actress who turned heads had been replaced by a retired schoolteacher, who sat across from him in a shadowed alcove of a restaurant at the Hong Kong International Airport, sipping a cup of tea.
Between weather delays, missing their connecting flight, and making the arrangements to get everything organized here in Hong Kong, it had taken them over a day to get here. But everything was set and all they could do now was sit and wait.
“How’d you do it?” he asked. “It looked so real on the video. Your entire face was on fire.”
“I was scared to death,” Lacey said. “Pete’s crew modified the stunt car so that the passenger seat flipped back on a spring hinge. There was an escape hole cut in the floorboard beneath it. The trick was making sure that the car stopped directly over the manhole cover. Fortunately, I wasn’t actually driving. Pete’s guys handled it with remote controls.”
“It looked like the car was hauling butt when it hit the wall.”
“Yeah, the impact was the worst part. But the specialized air bags did the trick.” She rubbed her sternum. “For the most part, anyway. After that, it was all about scrambling through the escape hole into the sewer while Skylar climbed up to take my place. The car was filled with smoke to hide our movements. One of Pete’s guys was waiting to help me down the ladder and replace the manhole cover. In the meantime, Skylar set herself on fire and tumbled out the driver’s seat.”
“It looked so damn real,” he said. The edge of his false mustache itched. Jake was wearing the same facial disguise he’d used before, over cargo slacks and linen sport coat.
“Like Pete said, smoke ’n’ mirrors. I owe him and Sky my life.”
The four of them had cleared customs forty-five minutes ago. Pete and Skylar had taken off to hook up with their local contacts who were waiting at the arrivals curb, while Jake and Lacey had headed for the concourse restaurant where they were now seated. Since they’d all traveled separately on the plane, this was the first time he and Lacey had a moment together alone.
“We’re lucky to have them,” Jake said, casually scanning the restaurant entrance for any sign of the teams that he knew would be searching for him after the performance he’d staged shortly after they landed.
She nodded, exhaling a slow breath. Her gaze turned out the window toward the pressing metropolis stretching into the distance, the surrounding ring of mist-covered mountains forcing the harbor city to grow upward rather than outward, reminding Jake that Hong Kong was one of the most densely populated cities in the world, with twenty-five percent more skyscrapers than New York City.
“Do you really think he’s out there?” she asked.
The question hung for a moment, fueling his own doubts, and he wondered if he’d led them halfway around the world for nothing. He was still crafting his reply when he spotted two young Asian men rush into the restaurant, both wearing all-too-familiar glasses. They moved past the protesting hostess, splitting up like wolves on the prowl as they wound their way around either side of the room, scanning the guests.
Jake fought the urge to turn away, instead stuffing a French fry into his mouth as he eased the tension from his face.
They’re looking for Jake Bronson, not a bespectacled older man with a bulky nose, mustache, glasses, and baseball cap.
“Stay cool,” he said as he chewed. “We’ve got company.”
Lacey shifted into her role as if a director had shouted, “Action!”
“It’s so wonderful to be here,” she said, beaming. “It’s one thing to read about it, but to finally get a chance to experience the excitement firsthand...”
As she continued Jake tuned her out, nodding intermittently as he savored several more fries, dipping each into the circle of ketchup he’d poured on the side of his plate. He glanced up as one of the men approached their table and dismissed Jake as he hurried past. A few moments later, the man and his partner completed the circuit and were gone. Jake heaved a sigh of relief.
“It’s happening,” Lacey said, unable to hide her excitement.
“I think so,” he said, the tiny hairs on the back of his neck bristling. He tapped a quick message into his cell phone.
It took two minutes before his phone finally vibrated with Pete’s confirmation that the rest of team was in place. He pocketed the phone then laid several bills on the table. “That’s our cue,” he said. “You first. I’ll follow.”
Lacey rose, extended the handle of her roller bag, and made her way out of the restaurant with a shuffle that matched her elderly disguise. He hoisted his backpack and followed from a distance. It was late morning, the airport was packed with travelers, and he took care to maintain a clear sight line. He trailed her down the escalator to the baggage claim area, remaining inside as she strode through the exit and approached the row of cars lining the curb. That’s when he spotted them, a pair of men standing outside observing the crowds through stylish eyewear. They had the same look and feel as the two who’d searched the restaurant, and for the first time since they’d landed, Jake felt a spark of hope that their plan might work.
Lacey brushed past the men and they never gave her a second glance. She waved toward the parked vehicles and Pete stepped out of a Honda minivan to greet her with a hug and usher her into the backseat. As Pete popped the rear hatch to stow her bag, Jake caught the casual nod he exchanged with a trio of helmeted motorcyclists parked on the island across the street.
Time to go to work.
Jake turned around and headed for the nearest restroom, his brain cataloging and dissecting the walls and ceilings of the return course he’d be making in the next few minutes. He marked two CCTV cameras at the exit and three more covering the corridor leading to the restroom.
Plenty.
Once inside, he locked himself in the nearest stall and hung his backpack on the wall hook. Like the rest of airport, the bathroom was clean, with modern facilities that included a noisemaking cyclone feature on the toilet, allowing users to create a cone of sound privacy when they did their business. He didn’t need privacy now as he removed his cap, peeled off his disguise, and stuffed it all into his pack.
He unrolled a blue windbreaker and slipped it on over his linen jacket, just as he’d done earlier after they cleared customs. That’s when he’d first jiggled the bait that he hoped would lure Geppetto’s team to the airport. He’d removed his disguise then and made a point of walking past an array of CCTV cameras, hoping like hell his assumptions would hold true: If Geppetto had access to Interpol and counterterrorist agencies in Europe—not to mention triad groups in Los Angeles—then he certainly had access here in Hong Kong. So Jake had exposed his features, feeling naked as he imagined facial recognition software capturing every plane and angle on his face, worrying about being jumped by airport security. But every machine needed time to warm up, even one with its claws dug into agencies around the globe, so when he’d ducked into a bathroom after ten nerve-wracking minutes to replace his disguise, no one had appeared the wiser.
That is, until a short while ago when the two scouts had shown up in the restaurant. The fact that law enforcement personnel hadn’t accompanied them was a good sign. It suggested that Geppetto had his own operators close at hand, which was further confirmation that Jake and his team were on the right track. By now Geppetto’s people likely had their eyes glued to the CCTV feeds, desperate to reacquire his position, so it shouldn’t take long to set the hook.
He activated an application on his phone and stuffed it into the pocket of his cargo pants. Then he inserted a two-way communication bug in his ear. “How
do you read?”
“Five by five,” Pete said.
“Ready at the curb?” Jake asked.
“Let ’er rip,” Skylar said.
Jake slung the backpack over his shoulders, exited the restroom, and walked tall as he merged with the gaggle of travelers making its way toward the exit.
Smile, you’re on Candid Camera.
He was five paces from the street exit when he spotted the two men from the restaurant scrambling down the crowded escalator. One of them pointed in his direction, and for Jake it was like the gunshot at a track meet.
He sprinted out the exit just as the two scouts outside swiveled in his direction, reaching under their jackets. Jake lowered his shoulder and barreled through them, glancing off the larger of the two and sending the other man sprawling backward, his pistol clattering to the pavement. A woman screamed, a man shouted, and a police whistle sounded behind Jake. He barely missed a step as he hot-footed to the curb and dived into the open rear passenger door of a red taxi.
It lurched forward even before Jake slammed the door closed.
“You are one popular guy,” Skylar snickered as she raced the car into the traffic lane.
He looked back to see all four of Geppetto’s men jump into two separate sedans and start after them. The helmeted motorcyclists he’d seen earlier pulled into traffic behind them.
Hook, line, and sinker.
Chapter 3
Hong Kong
IT HADN’T TAKEN LONG for Jake and Skylar to lose their tails from the airport, especially when Pete’s van intervened, “stalling” in the middle of an intersection to snarl traffic behind them. A pre-planned underground parking lot car switch had ensured that traffic cams would be of no use to Geppetto’s people. They’d been forced to give up the chase and head back to wherever they’d come from—tracked by Pete’s buddies on motorcycles.
So far, the operation had gone down like clockwork.